


I Should Tell You

by FeathersOnTheLeather



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Comfort/Angst, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4578804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeathersOnTheLeather/pseuds/FeathersOnTheLeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just supposed to be Michael and Lincoln once they broke out...but they ended up having T-Bag tagging along somehow. Tensions are high with the three cons (and now LJ) all cooped up together. Some where along the line something has shifted however...and Michael finds himself sympathizing with, and maybe even liking, Theodore Bagwell. Perhaps Michael is finally losing his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Should Tell You

**Author's Note:**

> Thought maybe since Prison Break was going to be coming back next year that I would re-upload my old Prison Break fics...Prison Break fic was the first fanfiction I ever wrote! I am not 100% sure how I feel about the Michael/Lincoln ship any more to be honest...These are old. Be gentle haha.

Michael sat on the kitchen floor with his knees up, leaning against the cupboards. How had it come to this point? Michael’s intention had been to get Lincoln out of prison, and he had accomplished that. But how had it come to this point? It was just supposed to be he and Lincoln. Just him and his big brother. Somehow they had ended up with six other guys coming with them. Now two of those guys were dead . . . one was just a kid. Just a fucking kid. The amount of guilt Michael carried around on his shoulders was phenomenal. Michael and Lincoln had gone their separate way from the rest of the guys within days after escaping. But somehow the Southern Sleazebag had ended up back with them. The worst of the worst. Fucking T-Bag.

Not long after they had escaped, a connection of Michael’s had set them up in a tiny run down apartment. Pull out couch, no hot water, roach infested . . . but it was safe. Apparently, T-Bag had connections too. He managed to track the brothers down and cause a big enough scene that they had to leave, and since T-Bag knew where they were, they had to take him along.

Now they were in a shit-hole trailer owned by one of T-Bag’s Klan buddies and, the icing on the cake, LJ was with them now. The trailer was on the outskirts of the town where LJ was last spotted. Sure enough, Lincoln went out and found him. Another mouth to feed, another person to take care of. Michael didn't know how much more he could take.

Michael leaned his head back against the cupboard. Sleeping not fifty feet away from a child-raping psychopath in a rat-infested trailer. Who said life on the run wasn't glamorous? He squinted as the overhead light suddenly came on. It was LJ.

“Oh. Hey Uncle Mike,” he said, as he walked to the fridge and dug out the orange juice. “Um . . . what are you doing on the floor?” 

Michael smiled slightly. “Thinking.” 

LJ poured himself a glass full of the juice and then sat down on the floor next to his uncle. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

“Too much,” Michael said, rubbing his eyes. He cast a sideways look at his nephew. “Why aren’t you in bed?” 

LJ shrugged. “Just watching TV.”

“With your dad?”

“No, he went to bed. T-Bag’s still up though.”

“You know your father doesn’t want you alone with him.”

“I know.”

“And if he ever . . . ”

“He hasn’t laid a hand on me Uncle Mike.” LJ held up his hand.”Scouts’ honor.”

“Your dad would kill him.”

“I know,” LJ said, draining his glass. He stood up and put his glass in the sink. “Well, I’m off to bed. Try to get some sleep, Uncle Mike.”

“Night LJ.” Michael sat a few minutes longer than hoisted himself up off the floor. He put the orange juice that LJ had left on the counter back in the fridge and flicked off the light as he left the kitchen.

He entered the living room to find T-Bag with his head flopped onto the back of the couch, snoring loudly with his mouth open. Michael observed him with disgust and then headed toward the room he shared with his brother. Then he heard it:

“Breaking news: Michael Scofield possibly spotted.” 

Michael’s blood ran cold. He stood staring at the television. “More on this breaking story after this brief commercial break.” Michael backed up to the couch, not taking his eyes off the TV, and sank down onto the cushion. This was bad. Really bad.

 

T-Bag felt the couch shift next to him. He slid open one eye to see Pretty sitting next to him. T-Bag held back a smile. Pretty looked frustrated. One hand was sitting balled up on his knee while the other rubbed his temple. T-Bag opened the other eye, his tongue snaking out over his lower lip. He slowly placed his hand on Michael’s thigh. Michael jumped about a foot off the couch.

“Tense, Pretty?” 

Michael was visibly shaken. “The news. Apparently I was spotted.”

Too bad for you,” T-Bag drawled.

“If they catch me, they catch you too,” Michael snapped.

“Not necessarily. If that news woman says they know your whereabouts, I’m gone.”

“I’ll rat you out. I’ve got no problem doing it.” 

T-Bag stretched, his shoulders popping.

“Just remember, you get caught and your precious brother is toast.”

“If they know I’m here, I’ll make sure Linc and LJ are out of here. You’re going down with me though.” 

T-Bag grinned. “Then I’ll rat your brother out. Lose-lose situation, Pretty.” Michael glared at the other man. “However, I may be persuaded otherwise,” T-Bag continued, rubbing his hand up Michael’s thigh.

Michael slapped his hand away. “Shut up. The news is back on.”

“Michael Scofield of the infamous Fox River Eight was spotted earlier today,” the news woman said. “Authorities in Framingham, Massachusetts are currently following a lead that Scofield was spotted earlier today in a convenience store. Authorities have not confirmed whether Scofield’s brother, death row inmate Lincoln Burrows, or any of the other escaped convicts are suspected to be with Scofield.”

Michael laughed, almost hysterically. “Massachusetts?” He gasped. “Massachusetts! That’s pretty much as far as you could possibly get from here!”

“You’re free for another day, my dear,” T-Bag said, placing his hand back on Michael’s thigh. 

Michael slapped his hand away and stood up. “Why do you insist on doing that? You know I'm never going to give in. I've made it quite that I'm not interested.” 

T-Bag grinned back at him. “You know what they say, Fishie. If at first you don’t succeed . . . ”

“Cut your losses and piss off?” T-Bag gaped at him and Michael laughed as he left the living room.

 

Michael walked down to the end of the hall to the bedroom he was sharing with Lincoln. Originally, Lincoln had wanted LJ to share the room with him, to ensure that T-Bag didn't get anywhere near the boy. However, the room only had one bed and being a teenage boy, there was no way LJ was going to share a bed with his father.  
So, LJ took the smaller bedroom down the hall and Michael ended up sharing the bigger bedroom, and the bed, with Lincoln. It wasn't too bad though. The bed was fairly big and it reminded Michael of when he and Lincoln used to share a bed when they were kids.

Michael unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. He rubbed his hands down his bare chest and over his stomach, admiring his tattoos. He had to keep them covered up all the time because they had released pictures of it. It pained Michael. He adored his tattoos and hated having to keep them concealed all of the time. Michael undid his belt and stripped down to his briefs. He flopped down on the bed to remove his socks. He hated wearing socks to bed. Michael glanced over at Lincoln, who was sprawled on his stomach, taking up most of the bed. Michael debated on waking him up to tell him about the news clip. Michael was still riled up over the report, and the relief that had followed. He decided to tell Lincoln

“Linc,” Michael said, grabbing his brothers leg and shaking it. No response. “Linc!” Michael said, louder. His brother could sleep through a train ripping through the room. Michael climbed onto his hands and knees on the bed, and slapped the back of Lincoln’s head quite hard. 

Lincoln groaned and rolled over toward Michael, cracking open one eye. “What do you want? What time is it?” He asked groggily.

“I was spotted today.”

“That’s nice,” Lincoln replied, closing his eyes. Then they snapped back open. “You were spotted? Where? When?” He was now wide awake.

“In Massachusetts,” Michael replied. 

Lincoln stared at him for a moment and then groaned. “Don’t do that to me!”He cried, putting his brother in a headlock and pulling him down onto the bed.

“I couldn’t resist,” Michael said, muffled by his brother’s armpit. Lincoln released him and laughed. “God, you stink!” Michael gasped.

“I showered this morning!” Lincoln replied, pretending to be offended.

Michael climbed underneath the blankets, shivering. “It scared me though.” He said.

“What? The smell?”

“No!” Michael laughed. “The news, when they said I was spotted.”

“Yeah, but obviously it wasn't you.”

“I know. But it still scared me,” Michael said, turning off the lamp Lincoln had left on for him.

“Don’t worry, little brother,” Lincoln said, putting his arm across Michael’s chest and resting his head on his shoulder. “I’ll protect you.”

“I know,” Michael said, resting his cheek against Lincoln’s forehead. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to protect you.”

“That’s not your job,” Lincoln said quietly, planting a light kiss on Michael’s shoulder. 

 

T-Bag tossed and turned under the light blanket he had. It was fucking cold in this shit-hole. He curled up on his side in the fetal position and shivered. He wished he had Michael to curl up with. That would warm him up. Fuck. Anybody to curl up with would be nice. No, that wasn't true. It was Michael he wanted. Or little pretty. LJ.  
T-Bag licked his lips. Yeah. Either one. Or both even. Fuck Lincoln. Lincoln could sit out. T-Bag smiled. Yeah. Pretty and Little Pretty.

He rolled over onto his back picturing Michael in the prison showers. Those incredible tattoos wet and glistening. Fuck, that boy’s body was a beautiful thing to behold. He had enjoyed his showers a lot more once Pretty had arrived. After the shower he’d usually go back to his cell and fuck his current boy-toy to get rid of his raging boner, like the one straining against his pants currently.

T-Bag loosened the drawstring on his jogging pants and released his throbbing cock. LJ was alone, he thought, while slowly stroking himself. He could get LJ to relieve his tension . . . no. Too risky. Pretty was a light sleeper. He’d hear them. Mmm . . . The Pretty. T-Bag stroked himself faster, thinking of Michael in the shower once again. Those well-built arms, that flat stomach, that hot, firm ass. Those sexy rosebud lips that T-Bag wanted so badly to feel wrapped around his cock. T-Bag moaned quietly. He wanted Michael. Correction: he would have Michael. He needed to have him. He needed to feel firm flesh under his fingers, a beating pulse under his lips, a warm, hot . . . 

He released his warm seed all over his stomach and gasped, barely keeping Michael’s name from escaping his lips. He lifted his arms above his head, stretching, joints popping. He fell asleep almost immediately, a smile on his lips and Michael on his mind.

 

Michael was just about asleep when Lincoln spoke.

“Did LJ go to bed?”

“Yeah. He went before I did.”

“Good,” Lincoln sighed. “I just don’t want him alone with T-Bag.”

“I know.”

“I’ll kill the little fucker if he touches LJ.”

“I know.” 

Lincoln pulled Michael closer and snuggled into his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I know.” Lincoln’s pinched Michael’s side. Michael laughed. “I love you too, Linc.”

“That’s what I thought you said,” Lincoln mumbled, almost asleep.

 

Michael moaned, not quite awake. He could feel warm, rough hands on his hips and a hot, wet mouth on his cock. His hips rocked slightly as the skillful tongue worked the head of his member. The hands gripped him tighter and he felt teeth drag lightly up his shaft. Michael gasped, opening his eyes to stare up at the cracked white ceiling.

“Faster. Don’t stop,” he moaned.

“Feel good, Pretty?” 

Michael’s eyes snapped down to see T-Bag between his spread legs, staring up at him with a smile on his lips.

 

Michael started awake, his cock throbbing. He sat bolt upright in bed. Holy fuck, he thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He glanced over at Lincoln, who was still fast asleep. He felt sick. He was disgusted by the dream, but he was even more disgusted that he had an erection from it. Fuck. Michael reached over the edge of the bed and picked up his watch from his pile of clothes. 5:16. He needed a shower. He felt absolutely filthy. He climbed out of bed, threw his watch onto his crumpled slacks and quickly pulled his briefs back on. He then headed down the hall to the bathroom.

He entered and shut the door quietly behind him. He debated on whether he should shower this early . . . but Lincoln and LJ were heavy sleepers, so it shouldn’t wake them. Michael walked over to the shower and cranked the hot water as far as it would go. He wanted to scrub his skin until it was raw. The water took along time to heat up, so Michael took a moment to examine himself in the mirror over the scummy sink. He looked like hell. His eyes were bloodshot and very dark underneath, and he had an overgrowth of stubble due to the lack of razors. His cheeks were hollowed and he was losing weight.

Michael sighed. He wasn't graced with Lincoln’s looks that was for sure. Lincoln had that kind of ruggedness that drove women crazy. He always looked good. No matter if it was first thing in the morning, the middle of the night, or in the midst of a drunken rage, he was till hot.

He came back to reality and his reflection was obscured by steam. He peeled off his briefs and climbed into the near-scalding shower. He stood directly under the spray, letting the water run down his face. It felt so good to be getting clean. He filled his hand with some no-name, strawberry shampoo and lathered up his hair. His hair was finally starting to grow longer, which was fine with him. It would make him harder for people to recognize him when he was out in public. Michael had his eyes shut, massaging his scalp when he heard the bathroom door open and close.

“Linc? Is that you?” No response. Michael opened his eyes, straining to see through the dingy shower doors. It really didn't help when the shampoo ran down into his eyed and started burning. “Fuck,” he muttered, shutting his eyes and turning his face back into the spray. “If you were trying to sneak up on me, it didn't work. Get those clothes off and get in here with me.” 

After a few moments Michael heard the shower door open. He kept his face in the spray and his back to his brother, anticipating the moment when he would feel wet skin pressed against his back. He could feel Lincoln’s closeness, but not his touch. Michael smiled into the shower spray. “Why are you so shy this morning?” Michael got a response as fingers traced ever so lightly down his spine. Michael shivered despite the hotness of the shower. He turned his face away from the spray and opened his eyes. Thankfully, they weren't burning any more. “What are you doing awake so early anyway?”

“I'm a light sleeper.”

Michael whirled around and cranked his hip off of one of the knobs.

“Now, just calm down, Pretty,” T-Bag drawled.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Michael snarled.

“You invited me in.”

“I invited Lincoln in, “ he snapped.

“Which raises all sorts of interesting questions, Pretty, but I have more pressing matters,” T-Bag said, taking a step closer. Michael tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. His back was pressed painfully against the shower knobs already.

 

T-Bag could see The Pretty was terrified. His eyes were wide and darting and his breathing had become much faster. T-Bag licked his lips. Pretty was damn near irresistible when he was scared. He took a step closer and placed his hand on Michael’s hip. “I can smell the fear off you.” T-Bag sniffed the air and grinned. “Fear and strawberries.” Michael made a swipe for the shower door and T-Bag grabbed his wrist. “What? Am I not a good enough substitute for big brother?” He could see Michael’s jaw clench. “I'm probably just as big as big brother,” T-Bag drawled, pulling Michael’s hand down onto his package. “Maybe even bigger.”

Michael tried to rip his hand away, but T-Bag grabbed the other wrist and pinned both arms against the shower wall above his head. Which was quite the feat, since T-Bag was shorter. “Just let me have this,” T-Bag whispered, brushing his lips against Michael’s ear. “This is all I want.” 

Michael tried to turn his head as far away as possible. “You make me sick,” Michael spat.

T-Bag pulled Michael from the front of the shower and slammed him face first against the side wall, keeping one hand clamped tight on the back of Michael’s neck. ‘Well, that wasn't very nice at all,” T-Bag crooned, pressing himself against Michael’s back. “This could go real smooth Pretty, but you just don’t seem to want to cooperate.” Michael continued to squirm under T-Bag’s grip.

T-Bag began to plant light kisses across Michael’s shoulders, feeling himself grow stiffer. He moaned into Michael’s back. He began to rock his hips until he felt his cock slide up between Michael’s buttocks. He moaned louder as his cock slid easily, wet from the water and soap, between Michael’s cheeks. He was almost to the point of release already. He had waited for this for so long. But, he needed to wait a little bit longer. He wanted to be inside Pretty when he felt that sweet release.

T-Bag took a step back, but kept his hand firmly planted on the back of Michael’s neck. He gave himself a couple of strokes for good measure. “All right Pretty,” he breathed, “Now’s the moment we've all been waiting for.” He placed one hand on Michael’s hip. He positioned his hips in line with Michael’s. His cock was pressing against Michael’s tightness, straining almost to the point of entry, when he noticed that Michael had stopped thrashing about. T-Bag moaned. Maybe Pretty was actually liking this!

T-Bag leaned forward to whisper into Michael’s ear when he noticed. Michael was crying. Correction: Michael was sobbing. T-Bag froze, uncertain. “What are you crying for, boy?” Michael’s strangled sob was what he got in response. T-Bag took a step back. “Get the fuck out of here,” he said quietly.

Michael didn't move. 

“Get the fuck out of here!” He said, louder. He grabbed Michael by the shoulder and whirled him around. “GO!” He whipped open the shower door and Michael stumbled out, still sobbing. Michael snatched up a towel and wrapped it haphazardly around his waist and stumbled out the bathroom door. “Fuck!” T-Bag snarled, punching the wall of the shower.

 

Michael stumbled into his bedroom, still sobbing and gasping. He just kept thinking, what the fuck? What the fuck? He slammed the bedroom door closed behind him, wishing that it had a lock. He discarded the towel on the floor and crawled under the blanket, shaking violently. Lincoln was still asleep, curled up on his side with his back to Michael. He pressed as tight as he could against Lincoln’s body, tears still coming and very shaken.

Michael was biting his lip to keep from whimpering. He still could not wrap his mind around what had just taken place. Thank god that it had not gone any further than it did, though. He squeezed his eyes shut, his mind whirring faster and faster, thoughts coming quicker than he could handle. This happened whenever he was really upset. He just hoped he wouldn’t black out this time. He moaned and pressed his face against his brother’s back, still shivering violently.

Michael lay like that for along time, almost on the verge of falling back asleep. He had calmed down, for the most part. Then he heard it. The click of the doorknob turning. His eyes snapped open, his heart pounding violently against his rib cage. But . . . no. It couldn't be T-Bag. He was brave, but not near stupid enough to come in here and try anything with Lincoln so near. That would be a death wish.

Michael couldn’t see the door due to the broadness of Lincoln’s back. It was most likely LJ, and Michael didn't really want to move and draw attention to the fact that (a) they were naked and (b) that he was spooning with his brother.

“Dad?” Yes, it was LJ. No response from Lincoln. “DAD!” LJ damn-near screamed. Lincoln responded with some mumbled nonsense. Michael decided to help his nephew out and pinched Lincoln’s back quite hard.

“Ow! Fuck!” Lincoln groaned, opening his eyes. “Michael, if you want . . . ” The words died on his lips as he noticed LJ in the doorway. “Oh, he kiddo,” he said, sounding slightly flustered. “What can I do you for?”

“We've got no food,” LJ said flatly.

“Sure we so,” Lincoln replied.

“No. Really, we don’t.”

“Well, we had food last night. T-Bag didn't fucking eat it all did he?” Michael stiffened slightly at the sound of T-Bag’s name. Lincoln didn't seem to notice.

“Well, there is food,” LJ said with an eye roll, “Just nothing good! I can’t keep living off mac and cheese, pancakes and hot dogs!”

“I suppose not,” Lincoln said through a yawn. He turned his head toward Michael. “We got enough money for a few more groceries?”

“Yeah,” Michael replied. “Not for a lot of them though.”

“But a few?”

“Yeah. You guys can go get some.”

“You’re not coming with?”

“No,” Michael said clearing his throat, “You guys go ahead.”

“All right!” LJ said, flopping down on the end of the bed. “Let’s get going, dad.”

“You’re going to need to wear ball-caps and sunglasses, remember,” Michael said.

“Can we stop at Dunkin’ Donuts?” Lj asked Michael. 

Michael thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, go for it. Go through the drive-thru, though.”

“No problem,” LJ said, jumping off the bed. “C’mon dad!”

Lincoln’s face reddened slightly. “Um, I’ll be out in a minute,” he said.

“All right, I’ll wait,” LJ said flopping back down on the bed. “I don’t want to be alone with T-Bag.”

“Is he up?” Michael asked, a little too quickly.

“No, but I’d rather not be there when he does wake up. Are you coming, dad?” LJ demanded, impatiently.

“I told you, go get ready and I’ll be there in a second,” Lincoln said, a bit more firmly.

“Why?” LJ demanded.

“Because I’m not decent!” Lincoln snapped.

Lj stared at Lincoln for a moment before it sank in. His father and his uncle were in bed together, naked. LJ made a hasty exit from the bedroom, looking disgusted and quite traumatized.

Lincoln sighed and hoisted himself out of bed. “I'm going to need to talk to him now.”

“Not a good idea,” Michael said.

“Why?” Lincoln asked, pulling his boxers and jeans on.

“Don’t even talk about it unless he asks. He really doesn’t want to know.” Michael paused. “Actually, he probably already knows.”

“And how would he know anything?” Lincoln asked, buttoning his shirt up about half way. 

Michael shrugged. “Kids just pick up on stuff,” he replied. “Oh, and button your shirt up.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not exactly helping you blend in.”

Lincoln sat down on the bed and put his socks on. He then turned and pulled Michael to him, planting a kiss on his forehead. “We’ll be back shortly.”

“All right,” Michael said, nuzzling into Lincoln’s neck. “Be safe Linc.”

“Always am,” Lincoln said with a grin. Michael rolled his eyes and laid back down as Lincoln left the room.

Michael stayed in bed until he heard the car pull out of the driveway, then he got up and got dressed. He crept quietly out to the living room, hoping T-Bag would still be asleep. Michael was pleasantly surprised. Lincoln had taken the fucker with him. Michael padded out to the kitchen and found that someone (most likely LJ) had put a pot of coffee on. Michael got a cup down and filled it. He went to the fridge, got the milk and nudged the door shut with his hip. Then cursed out loud.

He pulled down the side of his pants to examine his hip. He had quite a large, purple bruise. He must have got it in the shower. Michael gritted his teeth as he slid his pants back up over his hip. Lincoln was going to ask where that had came from. Michael would have to make something up. He finished making his coffee and headed out onto the small deck to drink it. It was messy, but it was out in the warm sun and Michael took every opportunity he could to get some fresh air. 

Michael was sitting titled back in a lawn chair, his feet up on the railing when T-Bag walked around the side of the trailer. The chair legs hit the deck with a bang. T-Bag wouldn't make eye contact as he walked up on the deck.

“Mornin’ Fish,” he mumbled. 

Michael stared at him, shocked that he even had the balls to speak to him after what had happened earlier. “Where the fuck were you?” Michael demanded. 

T-Bag paused, midway to the door. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I want to know.”

“What difference does it make? Wouldn't it make you happier if I fucked off?”

“Not when you know our location.”

“I went for a walk, okay? I believe I still have that right, don’t I?” T-Bag snapped, finally looking up at Michael. His eyes were red and glazed looking. 

Michael shook his head. “Now I see. Judging by your eyes, you’ve been off getting stoned.”

T-Bag stared at Michael. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“No? Then explain. Enlighten me, Mr. Bagwell.”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“After this morning, I think you do!”

“I don’t even want to talk about it,” T-Bag mumbled.

“Too fucking bad! Where were you?”

“Walking!”

“What were you smoking?”

“Nothing! Not a fucking thing! I was crying, okay? Crying like a fucking sissy! There! Are you happy?” 

Michael snorted. “Why? Upset cause’ you couldn't get it up this morning?”

“You better watch your fucking mouth,” T-Bag snarled.

“Upset cause’ you couldn't hold me down like all those little . . . ”

“You don’t understand!” T-Bag cried, his voice cracking. “I didn't want it to be like that!” He sank down into one of the other chairs. “That’s why I stopped.”

T-Bag put his head in his hands and Michael stared on, unsure of what had just happened. “But you . . . ”

“Just let it go,” T-Bag said, his voice cracking even worse.

“But . . . ”

“Just let it go!” T-Bag moaned. He looked up at Michael, tears streaming down his face. “I didn’t want it to be like that! I never wanted it to be like that!”

Michael stared in disbelief, really unsure of what he was feeling. He stood up, feeling really awkward. “Um . . . do you want a cup of coffee?” T-Bag nodded. Michael’s cup was empty and this gave him a chance to gather his thoughts.

When Michael returned, T-Bag was still sitting with his head in his hands. “Here you go,” Michael said quietly, holding out the mug. 

T-Bag sat up, scrubbing his face with his hands.. “Thanks,” he muttered, taking the mug. 

Michael pulled his chair closer to T-Bag’s and sat down. “Do you want to talk?” 

T-Bag snorted. “Like you’ll listen,” he mumbled. 

Michael was shocked that he genuinely felt bad for the other man. He placed his hand gently on T-Bag’s arm. “I'm serious. ,” He said. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

 

T-Bag stared at the hand on his arm, then looked Michael in the face. What was going on here? “What happened this morning . . . ” he started shakily, “It was never meant to happen like that. I didn't want to just take it. I wanted you to want it. I wanted you to want me.” 

Michael stared at him for a moment, then looked away. “I told you, I'm not into that.”

“You’re lying,” T-Bag said flatly. “I know what goes on with you and your brother.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?” Michael didn't answer right away. T-bag could tell that Pretty was struggling.

“I...we've never . . . him and I have never gone that far . . . we've never done that, you know? We've never gone . . . all the way.”

“But you like men. You like the feel of a man.” Michael blushed and T-Bag smiled slightly.

“I dunno . . . I've never been with another guy besides Linc.”

An awkward silence ensued and the men sipped their coffee. "When did you first decide to be with a man?” Michael asked suddenly. 

T-bag pondered this for a moment, considering if he wanted to go there or not. Fuck it. If Pretty wanted to listen, he’d talk. “I never decided. I never had a choice.” Michael studied him as he spoke. “My daddy decided he liked me just as much as he liked his sister.”

“Your mother?” T-Bag nodded. “So what Bellick said . . . it was true?”

“Yup. Nothin’ but an inbred redneck.”

The boys sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. “Why the kids?” Michael blurted out. 

T-Bag bit his lower lip. “They weren’t kids, per say. They were teens.” 

Michael shrugged. “Still . . . ” 

T-Bag had been asked this question hundreds of times. By lawyers, psychologists, the parents . . . never before had he even considered giving a real answer. “I was . . . angry. So broken. I wanted to be in control. I didn't want to be the victim any more. I wanted to take back what was taken from me. I wanted to break and shatter and destroy their innocence. I wanted to feel lust, greed, power. I just wanted to feel something. Wanted to be something . . . anything. Anything besides empty and broken and scared.”

“Have you ever been in love, T-Bag?”

T-Bag was taken back by the question. It really wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. “Please, call me Theo.” Fuck. Why Theo? Why not Teddy or Theodore, or Ted even?

“Theo.” Michael said, trying it out. “Have you ever been in love?” 

He loved hearing Michael call him that. There was only one other person who had called him that . . . and that person had meant the world to him. “Twice,” he replied. “I think. Once that I know of for sure.”

“Men or women?”

“Both men.”

“Maytag . . . he was one wasn't he?” 

T-Bag swallowed hard. “Yeah. He was one.”

“And the other?”

T-bag shifted in his chair, feeling very uncomfortable. Why did the conversation have to go this way? This was too raw, too personal. “Jimmy.”

“Where is he now?”

“Dead.” T-Bag said flatly. “Abruzzi’s guys on the outside got to him. Abruzzi was trying to punish me.” 

Michael nodded slowly. “So that’s what happened between you and Abruzzi?” 

T-Bag shrugged. “Pretty much. That among other things.” T-Bag’s stomach was rolling. Michael was sitting so close he could feel the heat off his body, smell his shampoo. Pretty didn't seem disgusted by him. He didn't appear to think he was a monster any more. “This morning went so wrong,” T-Bag said quietly. “I really want to get to know you Michael. I just want you, Michael. Mind and body. You.”

 

Michael stared at Theo, studying him. Theo. Even just calling him that made Michael feel closer to him. He was so broken . . . so fragile. He squeezed the other man’s arm gently. Maybe Michael was finally losing his mind out here. Maybe he just found comfort in someone else being just as screwed up as him. Michael took a deep breath and prepared to do something he had never dreamed he would ever do. But right now, in this moment, it was what he wanted more than anything in the world.  
He leaned slowly toward Theo and planted a firm kiss on his lips. It sent a jolt straight down his spine to his groin. He tightened his grip on Theo’s arm and kissed him harder. He felt the other man’s hand come up and to the back of his head, trying to pull him closer.

Michael pulled back with a gasp. Theo had his eyes closed and appeared to be savouring the kiss. “I...I....” Michael stuttered. 

Theo laid his fingers against Michael’s lips. “Don’t. It was perfect. You’re perfect.” Michael brushed his hand along Theo’s cheek, then pulled him in for an even more urgent kiss.

Now Theo’s other hand was rubbing the inside of Michael’s thigh. Michael got up out of his chair and shifted to straddle Theo’s lap, never breaking the kiss. He could feel Theo’s tongue frantically pushing at his lips and parted them to allow entry. The feel of the other man’s tongue sent another jolt to his groin. Michael ground his hips into Theo’s, feeling the hardness in the other man’s pants. He moaned into Theo’s mouth as he thrusted harder. Theo’s hands snaked around Michael’s waist and cupped his ass, squeezing it and trying to pull him closer.

Michael broke the kiss and Theo moaned. “The bedroom,” Michael gasped. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

“Alright, Pretty,” Theo breathed. “Whatever you want.”

Michael removed himself from Theo’s lap, and taking his hand, led him into the trailer and down the hall to the bedroom he and his brother shared. He paused in the doorway, allowing Theo to enter first, then followed him in and closed the door quietly.

When Michael turned from the door, T-Bag was upon him. He gripped Michael’s ass, pulling his hips against his own and thrusting his tongue into the other man’s mouth. His thrust against Michael, and felt him grind back. He could also feel the hard bulge in the front of Michael’s slacks. Michael wriggled his hand between their hips, rubbing T-Bag’s throbbing erection. T-Bag had no idea what he was up to until he pants landed around his ankles.

T-Bag pulled out of the kiss, shocked by how forward Pretty was being. Michael smiled sweetly, then dropped to his knees and placing his hands firmly on T-Bag’s hips. T-Bag closed his eyes, drowning in the feeling of Michael’s mouth wrapped around his cock. Michael had obviously had practice and he definitely had skill. His lips gripped T-Bag tightly while his tongue worked in long, languid strokes up and down his shaft. He gripped T-Bag’s hips tighter and could feel Michael’s moans vibrating through his cock. Pretty was enjoying this.

T-Bag looked down, watching Pretty’s rosebud lips slide up and down the length of his shaft, the muscles along the length of his jaw quivering. His eyelids fluttered open, his eyes locking on T-Bag’s. T-Bag moaned out loud. “Get up,” he gasped, tugging on the shoulder of Michael’s shirt. “Get up.” Michael got up off his knees and wrapped his arms around T-Bag’s neck. T-Bag’s slid his hands down Michael’s back till he reached the hem of his shirt, and pulled it up over his head and off.

He trailed his hands down over Michael’s chest, the lines of his tattoos. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, leaning in to plant light kisses along the younger man’s collar bone. “Get on the bed,” he said quietly. Michael obeyed and walked to the side of the bed. He paused to undo his pants, letting them drop to the floor. T-Bag watched him from behind, then stripped off his own shirt and joined Michael on the bed.

Michael lay on his back on the bed, feeling slightly awkward. He’d never done this before. He wanted to feel Theo inside of him. He wanted this so bad. But he had so many questions. Would he be any good? Would it hurt? Would this be a one-shot deal? Then it dawned on him. He didn't want this to be a one tine thing. He wanted to know every inch of Theo. He wanted to explore him and be close to him, be one with him. He wanted to feel this rush and this warmth all the time. 

Theo kneeled on the bed beside Michael and laid a hand on Michael’s thigh. “Are you sure you want to do this, Pretty?” 

Michael nodded. “I do. I want this, Theo.”

“Cause if you’re not ready, we’ll wait. I want it to be perfect.” 

Michael smiled and caressed Theo’s cheek. “It will be.”

Theo straddled Michael’s legs and kissed down his chest. When he reached the band of his briefs, he snapped it with his teeth. “These need to go, Pretty.”

“Then get rid of them,” Michael said with a grin. Theo smiled back and Michael lifted his hips so that other man could slide his briefs off. Michael’s heart was pounding in his chest. This was it. It was going to happen. He looked down at Theo, who didn't meet his gaze.

T-Bag was admiring Michael’s lean body spread out before him on the bed. He had saw him naked before, but never like this. Not laying before him, ready and willing, his for the taking. Theo could feel himself grow harder at the prospect of being inside Michael. He spit in his hand a stroked himself for a few moments, gazing at Michael and lubing himself up, saliva mixing with precum. He gently parted Michael’s thighs and knelt between them. He placed his hands on Michael’s hips and gently tilted them off of the bed. He angled himself against Michael’s tight opening and then paused to glance up at him. “You’re sure?” Michael looked scared, but he nodded. “This may hurt.” 

Michael cleared his throat. “Yeah. I know.”

T-Bag pushed gently against Michael until he felt him begin to open up. T-Bag moaned, barely keeping himself in control. He felt himself enter, and paused, feeling Michael stiffen. He laid his forehead on Michael’s chest. “Just relax. I’ll be gentle.” He felt Michael take a deep breath. He rolled his hips gently, pushing himself slowly into Michael. Fuck it felt good. He’d waited so long for this. T-Bag took a deep breath, and pushed himself in to the hilt, his own groan drowned out by Michael’s. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Michael gasped. “Don’t stop.” Theo smiled into Michael’s chest, and began to rock his hips a little harder, pulling out almost all the way then thrusting back in, burying his whole cock in Michael’s heat.

Michael bit down on his lower lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure. It hurt, but it only lasted a moment before he felt waves of heat washing up from his groin into his stomach. His cock was pressed between his stomach and Theo’s, sliding on the sweat and the precum, doubling the sensation. Theo was driving into him faster now, getting more erratic in his thrusts, building in urgency. Michael moaned out loud, not sure how much longer he could hold on, the sensations overwhelming him.

T-Bag couldn't hold back much longer. Michael’s body underneath him and his heat around him was too much. He was thrusting into him hard and fast. T-Bag knew he was probably hurting the boy, but he couldn't help it. He drove himself in hard, rolling his hips, and Michael screamed his name, pushing him over the edge. He groaned as he felt himself climax, shooting his hot load deep inside of Michael’s body. He felt Michael’s cock throbbing under his stomach and knew that he was close to release as well.

Michael felt the heat inside of him as Theo came and couldn't hold himself back. He shot his load all over his stomach, and Theo’s in the process, gasping as he did.

Theo collapsed, his full weight lying on top of Michael. Michael wrapped his arms around Theo, holding him close. “That was...perfect.” Theo kissed his chest in response. Michael could feel his heartbeat returning to normal. He cleared his throat. “It was...god for you too?” 

Theo laughed against his chest. “Amazing.” He lifted his head and gazed into Michael’s eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” Michael responded, kissing him. “It was incredible.”

“Good,” Theo said, kissing him back.

“Do you think...” Michael trailed off as he saw the bedroom door opening.

 

T-Bag quickly pulled the blanket up over both of them, not bothering to remove himself from Michael. He eyed the door as well. “The wind maybe?” He whispered. Michael shook his head no. 

They got there answer a moment later when Lincoln nudged the door open the rest of the way with his hip, a coffee in each hand. “I can’t believe you’re still in bed! I thought you would have gotten up hours ago!” Lincoln turned and dropped both coffees, staring in shock.

T-Bag glanced at Michael, who had a mixture of embarrassment and fear on his face. T-Bag took this moment to disengage and slide down next to Michael on the bed. “Morning, Sink,” He drawled.

“What the fuck?” Lincoln whispered, staring straight at Michael. “What the fuck are...”

Lincoln was interrupted by Lj”s voice from the hallway. “Is he up?”

“Living room, LJ! Now!”

“Dad! What are...” 

“Now!” Lincoln screamed, the vein in his forehead standing out. Lj could be heard retreating.

Michael cleared his throat. “Linc, just listen to me. We just...it just...happened.”

“Fuck you!” Lincoln spat. “I thought you were better than this? T-Bag! Fucking T-Bag of all people! You know what he’s done Michael!”

“He’s a grown man, Sink. He can make his own decisions,” T-Bag said.

“You keep you’re fucking mouth shut! I should fucking kill you right where you’re laying!”

"What’s the matter, Sink? Jealous I got in your baby brother’s back door first?” Lincoln shot a hateful look at Michael and stormed out of the room.

The look on his brother’s face broke Michael’s heart. He should of known better. He shouldn’t have done this to Linc. Michael had promised Lincoln that when he was ready, his first time would be with him. Michael quickly got out of bed and started pulling his clothes on. 

“Where are you going?”

“To talk to him!” Michael cried. “You saw how upset he was!”

“He’ll get over it. He shouldn’t feel that way about you anyway. You guys keep telling me I’m fucked up!” Michael shot him a dirty look. “Stay.” Theo pleaded. “Please.” 

Michael shook his head. “I need to talk to him.”

“Do it later!”

“No! I need to sort this out now!”

“Did this mean nothing to you? Was this just a way for you to kill a few hours?” Michael paused fro a moment, then rushed out of the room after Lincoln.

T-Bag could feel the tears stinging his eyes as he watched Michael go after Lincoln. It had meant nothing to him. Absolutely nothing. T-Bag buried his face in the pillow and screamed in anger. Michael didn't fucking care that he genuinely cared for him. It didn't matter at all.

T-bag rolled on to his side, curling up in the fetal position. Fucking Lincoln. This was his fault. He had Michael wrapped around his little finger and didn't seem to be the least bit grateful that his brother had risked his life to get him out of prison. Lincoln didn't deserve him. T-Bag would treat him right, but Lincoln would keep fucking that up. T-bag smiled through his tears. Lincoln would just have to be removed from the picture then. T-Bag’s grin broadened. What he had done to those kids, that would pale in comparison to what he had planned for Sink.


End file.
